ggoose25
05-03-2005, 01:00 PM
Spurs' primal fear pays off
By Ric Bucher, ESPN The Magazine
When the Spurs stagnate, Manu's manic metabolism on both ends of the floor is usually the cure.
Two fouls, one debatable and one phantom, put Tim Duncan on the Spurs' bench with nearly three minutes left in overtime and the Spurs protecting a five-point lead. There couldn't have been a worse development for the Denver Nuggets.
If the Spurs have a weakness, it's that they don't have any internal conflict or friction. Nobody is unhappy with his role. Nobody is upset about his minutes or his touches. Nobody's pushing anybody else to get in the starting lineup. In fact, Manu Ginobili, a bona fide All-Star and a third-team All-Pro on my ballot, gave up his starting spot to Brent Barry for the good of the team. No one's happier for starting point guard Tony Parker than backup Beno Udrih.
So losing Duncan, much like losing Game 1 of the series, brought out the best in the Spurs. They didn't have their star and they could focus their ire on the referees for taking him away from them. Being a scrappy, skilled, unselfish, disciplined bunch, they generally play at a high level, but they went primal in those final minutes when some teams might have faltered. Bruce Bowen shuffled his 30-something feet, desperately trying to stay in front of liquid-quick Earl Boykins, knowing he couldn't count on shot-blocking help. Tony Parker, getting caught on a switch guarding Carmelo Anthony on the post, scrambled like a mongoose trying to keep a snake at bay. When 'Melo finally got the ball, Manu came out of nowhere to block what could have been an uncontested dunk and force a turnover.
The Nuggets, meanwhile, looked confused, as if they knew they were supposed to take advantage of TD's absence but weren't quite sure how. End result: the Nuggets never threatened once Duncan went to the bench, the Spurs rolling to an 11-point win and a 3-1 series lead.
But not to worry, Denver. The Spurs are going home to their cozy confines … where they've been nearly unbeatable, needing a single win to reach the second round. That amounts to a fluffy pillow and for a team with no internal stress, sometimes that can induce sleep.
Disclaimer: I watched the game on TV. I've watched most of the first round that way, except for the Sonics-Kings' Game 3 and Game 4 of the Heat-Nets series. Which reminded me just how limited you are watching a game on TV. You're at the mercy of the cameras and you miss all sorts of subtle tells, such as Damon Jones being an absolute bug with the game in hand or Jerome James apologizing to Luke Ridnour for not calling out the Brad Miller pick that flattened him or one of the Kings owners wearing a Mike Bibby jersey, which is about the greatest vote of confidence imaginable. There's no comparing the respective teams' body language coming in and out of timeouts, no spotting an assistant coach pulling aside the young star who just blew a rotation, no seeing Danny Fortson pull out his jersey and march to the far end of the bench, where he's consoled by James.
One observation about the Nuggets: TV limitations or not, you could tell they truly expected to win Game 4, despite what the Spurs did to them in Games 2 and 3. KMart was hiding his face on the bench in the final minutes. Anthony squatted, head down, right there on the court. Greg Buckner stared off into the distance with a how-did-this-happen expression. Andre Miller, a master of the no-expression expression, looked genuinely distraught. That's a good sign. It means they have expectations of themselves and, considering how tough they've played the Spurs, they're justified.
By Ric Bucher, ESPN The Magazine
When the Spurs stagnate, Manu's manic metabolism on both ends of the floor is usually the cure.
Two fouls, one debatable and one phantom, put Tim Duncan on the Spurs' bench with nearly three minutes left in overtime and the Spurs protecting a five-point lead. There couldn't have been a worse development for the Denver Nuggets.
If the Spurs have a weakness, it's that they don't have any internal conflict or friction. Nobody is unhappy with his role. Nobody is upset about his minutes or his touches. Nobody's pushing anybody else to get in the starting lineup. In fact, Manu Ginobili, a bona fide All-Star and a third-team All-Pro on my ballot, gave up his starting spot to Brent Barry for the good of the team. No one's happier for starting point guard Tony Parker than backup Beno Udrih.
So losing Duncan, much like losing Game 1 of the series, brought out the best in the Spurs. They didn't have their star and they could focus their ire on the referees for taking him away from them. Being a scrappy, skilled, unselfish, disciplined bunch, they generally play at a high level, but they went primal in those final minutes when some teams might have faltered. Bruce Bowen shuffled his 30-something feet, desperately trying to stay in front of liquid-quick Earl Boykins, knowing he couldn't count on shot-blocking help. Tony Parker, getting caught on a switch guarding Carmelo Anthony on the post, scrambled like a mongoose trying to keep a snake at bay. When 'Melo finally got the ball, Manu came out of nowhere to block what could have been an uncontested dunk and force a turnover.
The Nuggets, meanwhile, looked confused, as if they knew they were supposed to take advantage of TD's absence but weren't quite sure how. End result: the Nuggets never threatened once Duncan went to the bench, the Spurs rolling to an 11-point win and a 3-1 series lead.
But not to worry, Denver. The Spurs are going home to their cozy confines … where they've been nearly unbeatable, needing a single win to reach the second round. That amounts to a fluffy pillow and for a team with no internal stress, sometimes that can induce sleep.
Disclaimer: I watched the game on TV. I've watched most of the first round that way, except for the Sonics-Kings' Game 3 and Game 4 of the Heat-Nets series. Which reminded me just how limited you are watching a game on TV. You're at the mercy of the cameras and you miss all sorts of subtle tells, such as Damon Jones being an absolute bug with the game in hand or Jerome James apologizing to Luke Ridnour for not calling out the Brad Miller pick that flattened him or one of the Kings owners wearing a Mike Bibby jersey, which is about the greatest vote of confidence imaginable. There's no comparing the respective teams' body language coming in and out of timeouts, no spotting an assistant coach pulling aside the young star who just blew a rotation, no seeing Danny Fortson pull out his jersey and march to the far end of the bench, where he's consoled by James.
One observation about the Nuggets: TV limitations or not, you could tell they truly expected to win Game 4, despite what the Spurs did to them in Games 2 and 3. KMart was hiding his face on the bench in the final minutes. Anthony squatted, head down, right there on the court. Greg Buckner stared off into the distance with a how-did-this-happen expression. Andre Miller, a master of the no-expression expression, looked genuinely distraught. That's a good sign. It means they have expectations of themselves and, considering how tough they've played the Spurs, they're justified.